


Queer Lodgings

by WayWorseThanScottish



Series: The Straighforward Enigma of Us [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Rhyming, gratuitous fluff, i think i mention mycroft one time, lots and lots of rhyming, proposal fic, psychic!john, sphynx!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWorseThanScottish/pseuds/WayWorseThanScottish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Psychic!John and Sphynx!lock have been dating for like two years now and John's been noticing some suspicious behaviour  on Sherlock's part. A fluffy proposal oneshot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queer Lodgings

**Author's Note:**

> Our favourite duo is back! I'm going to continue writing in this verse, this can be read as a stand-alone fic but it'd make more sense if you read Riddles In The Dark first. Also, if you haven't noticed, all titles in this verse are chapter titles in The Hobbit.

 

John had done his best to shield Sherlock’s thoughts. Truly, he had. Well. It was difficult to block out thoughts when your damn roommate was almost  shouting in his own head. It was rather rude. And usually Sherlock was being an arse and doing it on purpose, deeming whatever John was doing as  dull .

Irritating to the extreme, to be certain.

Sherlock could be rather lovely, though. Ever since their first case, and the subsequent first kiss, Sherlock had some points where he was rather sweet. Most nights, he kept his mental babble to a dull roar, and occasionally even blocked his own thoughts completely with the ridiculous mind-palace concept. 

The mind palace concerned John on multiple occasions though, especially when used on a case. It was alarming, when getting accustomed to Sherlock’s general loudness, to have that sudden  silence. He understood the importance of focus, sure, but it freaked John out a bit. Reminded him of his lonelier days after getting sent back home from Afghanistan.  And then that freaked him out, since he realized how dependent he was on Sherlock’s all-encompassing noise.

Obviously John could cope. He made a point of leaving Baker Street without Sherlock, at least daily. He met up with Stamford, took shifts at the clinic, even went out for beers with Lestrade on occasion. And then, of course, the endless shopping. He swore he must’ve gone shopping five times last week, with Sherlock running a bloody experiment on the milk. Literal blood in milk. John had seen some things in the battlefield, but he didn’t want to see it in his goddamn tea.

But John was digressing. Sherlock had been secretive in the past month, at least in manner. Sherlock couldn’t function like a normal human being whilst hiding in his mind palace, so when he inevitably had to move, he needed to think aloud. Which meant John could hear him. Sure, Sherlock covered up his secret rather well, almost maintaining normal composure, thinking of experiments and John’s arse, but, on the other side, John was a bloody psychic.

They had been… in a relationship? A romantic partnership? He didn’t quite know the term to call them, since lovers seemed too… shallow, and boyfriends seemed too childish. Anyway. They had been in a romantic partnership for the better part of two years now, and had seen each other at their worst. John had been to Christmas dinner at the Holmes’ (though that was a story for another time), had seen Sherlock with the worst chest infection, and at one point Sherlock shaved his head. For a case. Supposedly. Frankly, John thought it was because the detective was bored. A bald Sherlock was definitely not the highlight of their time together. It had been… alarming. To say the least.

Regardless, John liked to think that they knew each other pretty well, and had a pretty secure relationship. John had been thinking of proposing, sometime soon actually, possibly during the summer between cases. He hadn’t really planned it out yet, but the idea of proposing was definitely there. The problem with John proposing was that Sherlock would deduce it the moment John left the flat to buy the bloody ring. Then again, if Sherlock were the one to do it, John was a psychic.

Which brings John back to Sherlock’s recent secrecy. He had a suspicion it was Sherlock planning a proposal, though he didn’t know for sure. It definitely centred on John. But, John’s birthday was coming up, and Sherlock was a drama queen. It came with the territory of being a Holmes, and being

cryptic by nature. 

“John, your presence has gone away, if you don’t mind, I’d rather it stay. To witness the most brilliant mind of our time,  well, frankly, it ought to be a crime.” Sherlock’s poetry brought John out of his introspection.

Drat. John was always entertained by the supposed bright mind straining itself to communicate through rhyme. “Sorry, Sherlock. I was on the moon. Off in a daze.” John shook himself. If he was going to be introspective, he ought to do it away from Sherlock, lest he become suspicious, which was an almost daily occurrence to be honest. 

“Prepared words I have to say to you, John if you could block my mind, please do. This is an important occasion for which to celebrate, and any secrecy you noticed was deliberate. If you thought you were being clever, rest assured my mind is better.” Sherlock bit his lip and stood up from his favourite slouchy chair. He took a deep breath. “No offense was meant, please remain impervious, I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m simply nervous.”

John gave an encouraging nod. “Whatever you have to say, I’m listening , you sphynx .”

“You may not have realized that today is important. Today is special, according to an informant. You may think this day marks something bad, which is why I’m making a memory today anything but sad.” The silent  I hope , John didn’t even need to listen mentally for. It was all in Sherlock’s normally calm voice shaking.  “You were bitten today, two years back. I’m thankful, without it, of John Watson I’d have a lack. So John, I’d like to turn I into we. And by that, I mean,” Sherlock paused. John had never heard him speak so much. Sherlock’s vocal chords probably hurt at this point. “Will you marry me?” And with that, Sherlock went on one knee, and opened a ring box.

John couldn’t stop his eyes from misting the tiniest bit. Oh God, Sherlock had really found out when he’d been attacked? That was so ridiculously sweet, so utterly  Sherlock. John almost forgot to answer, so overcome with emotion was he. “Yes, you daft man, of course.”

And what else was there to do but kiss? Sherlock rose to his feet and cradled John’s face like it was the most precious thing in the world. And his thoughts were nothing but John. It was ridiculously romantic, so much so that John felt like laughing.  Sherlock paused, right before their lips met, and said, “Thank you.”

As their  lips joined, John made a mental note of the fact that Sherlock, for the first time since he’d known him, hadn’t rhymed.

“I love you,” John finished the rhyme. 

 


End file.
